The Amateur Dramatics of the Petrelli Family
by Resqueln
Summary: This should not be read. Ever. Parody, love, intrigue, soap-opera style drama, bad writing and the machinations of the Petrelli family. PETRELLICEST, Nathan/Peter
1. Summary

The Amateur Dramatics of the Petrelli family: a slash fic for all seasons

Rating: M

Timeline: Based around mid-season 1 time. Completely AU for anything after that.

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Warnings: Incest (Petrellicest)

Summary: It started serious then got weird. Nathan and Peter and their epic love.


	2. Chapter 1

Part 1: No country dancing, please.

The dark of his apartment was broken only by the yellow of the street lights outside. Nathan was silhouetted against the window, cradling a tumbler. Peter shifted out of his now uncomfortable position on the couch and peered at the clock. Half nine. Nathan had turned at the noise, he could see the glint of his eyes watching him.

"You should have woken me."

Nathan shrugged, still silent. Peter reached for the light.

"No don't." Nathan's voice was rough.

Peter frowned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Nathan sounded resigned.

Peter could see his hand clenched on the tumbler as he moved to stand next to him.

"You're drinking again?"

Nathan's smile had no humour in it. "It's only soda water, unfortunately."

"Oh."

Nathan's face was inscrutable as he turned back to the vista in front of them.

"I've been thinking."

"About what?" Peter asked, frowning.

"You actually."

"Me?" Peter repeated in confusion.

"Lo." Said the troubled elder brother. "I thinkst I has a crush on thyself. For I lovest thou more thanst my wife, our mother and my children."

"Lawks!" cried the younger of the two, "thou puts me in a damned awkward position for whilst I loveth thou dearly and akin to no other, brother mine, it is as brothers should and not in any foul and lustful way. Yet though this knowledge disgusts me it also intrigues me..."

"It can disgust you no more than it does myself. I wish I had never spoken of it."

The younger placed his hand softly on his brother's shoulder. The elder looked away.

"My affection for you is unshaken, Nathan. Clearly you are troubled by your own wrong feelings, your soul is untarnished by these thoughts- your remorse tells me so!"

"Peter, you are a good man, the best of our bad family. I will try to quash these thoughts and be worthy of your faith in me."

For several long weeks they did not see each other after their conversation, their lives keeping them apart. It was after the third Sabbath had passed that Nathan began to suspect his brother of avoiding his company. Fearing the worst, that Peter had disowned him because of his confession, he made all haste to his brother's door. To Nathan's dismay the sight of his brother filled him with an unnatural, great longing.

"Brother." He greeted him.

Peter led him inside his home without a word, obviously in a state of great agitation.

"This is an inopportune time you have come to me, brother. I have been thinking of and praying for you and now my own thoughts trouble me."

"How so?"

Peter stepped far too close and Nathan could see the unnatural colour in his cheeks.

"I have been often considering what you have confessed to me and now I am not so sure my own feelings for you are as pure as they should be."

Nathan took a breath. "Then we are both damned."

Peter's face was both hopeful and thoughtful. "Is it so wrong to love?"

"When it is your own kin, yes!" Nathan cried. "It is against nature and God, we should both be hanged and sent to the very devil! When I confessed this flaw of my character I did not look for it to be reciprocated, for this curse to tarnish both of our souls."

He sank on to the chair with his head in his hands. Peter knelt before him.

"My soul is not tarnished, brother."

Nathan looked up.

"I believe I spoke wrongly to you before. What I feel for you, I do not believe it can be evil."

They stared at each other for a moment, Nathan hoping and wanting the reassurance that Peter was so readily giving. Peter licked his lips and Nathan realised how close they were to each other, how near Pete's face was to his own. Without thinking he leant forward slightly as if to brush his brother's lips with his. He pulled back almost as quickly but Peter followed him and their lips met.

Nathan jerked away. "Pete, no. This is wrong."

"I want this." His voice was lower than normal. "You want this. Please, Nathan."

The moment stretched out. Slowly Nathan reached out and ran his fingers over the side of Peter's face. Peter closed his eyes, leaning in to the touch. Nathan's fingers traced over his jaw and along the sinews of his neck, trailing off when he reached his collar bone. Peter opened his eyes and Nathan drew his gaze away from where his fingers had rested. Without conscious thought they moved, Peter standing and Nathan meeting him. Hands twisted in hair and mouths met, tongues clashing roughly. Nathan pulled away as Peter's hands fumbled at his shirt buttons.

"Are you sure, Pete?"

In answer Peter gestured and Nathan's shirt flew across the room. Nathan drew him back in, divesting him of his teeshirt in the process. Nathan suddenly found himself being lifted through the doorway to the bedroom. Peter gently shoved him and he fell against the bed. Nathan was pushed back onto the cushions, Peter hovering above him. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah." Nathan's voice was suddenly rough.

Pete smiled, eyes dark as he looked down at him. "Good, because I don't think I can stop."

*

Angela Petrelli knocked on the door to her son's apartment and wasn't surprised when there was no answer. Swiftly she unlocked it. The lounge was a mess- clothes scattered everywhere, she'd have to speak to Peter about that later, the boy was getting messy again. Her son was nowhere to be seen so she laid the letter she'd brought with her on the table. A small sound from the bedroom stalled her exit.

"Peter?"

No response. She squared her shoulder and marched into the bedroom. It took a moment for her to register the scene infront of her. Her scream woke both of them with a start, Peter falling out of the bed. Nathan looked around wildly and froze as he saw his mother in the door way. Her face was ashen and she was leaning against the door frame as if all strength had left her.

"No..." She pushed herself up and ran towards the front door.

It slammed close and would not open again. She turned, furious, to Peter whose hand was outstretched towards the door. Nathan stood behind him, his face grey.

"Let me go. Now!"

"I can't do that, not until you've calmed down."

"Calmed down?" She yelled. "I'll give you calm!" And with that she set about hitting Peter with her handbag.

Nathan leapt forward and held her back. She shook his hands away, "don't touch me!", and wiped angrily at her face where tears were now falling.

"I should have known." She spat, looking at the both of them in revulsion. "You were always too close for comfort. I told your father no good would come of it. Thank God he's not alive to see this."

Peter moved towards her, entreating. Angela pulled back.

"I said don't touch me. You disgust me. Both of you."

She rounded on Nathan. "You, how could you? He's your little brother."

Nathan looked away, shame burning his face.

"Don't blame him." Peter snapped.

"Why not? He's supposed to take care of you, not... not..." She closed her eyes briefly.

"What could possibly have posessed you to do this?"

"I love him." Nathan's quiet response surprised all three of them.

"Love him?" The cold fury in her voice made Nathan and Peter move back slightly. "LOVE him? You're supposed to LOVE him, Nathan, he's your brother. Last time I checked you're not supposed to take him to bed!"

Angela's gaze passed over them both once more, lingering only briefly on the swiftly fading red mark on Peter's neck.

"You're both broken, twisted... I never want to see either of you again." She turned for the door which, released from Peter's hold, had cracked open.

"You don't mean that," Peter said, stepping forward.

She whipped round.

"Oh I mean it! You've broken my heart." She swiped angrily at the tears welling once more in her eyes. "As of today I have no sons."

And with that she left, the door slamming shut behind her and leaving a ringing silence in it's wake.

***


	3. Chapter 2

Part 2: A hill of beans.

"You've broken my heart today. I never want to see either of you again."

Angela Petrelli yanked the door open.

"You don't mean that." Peter stepped forward, imploring.

She whipped around and glared at him.

"As of today I have no sons." She said, each cruel word emphasised, and with that she left, slamming the door behind her.

Peter made as if to go after her.

"Don't, it'll just make things worse." Nathan said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"We can't just leave it at that."

"We don't have a choice!"

"What're we going to do?"

They stared at each other in hopeless silence.

"I should go." Nathan said eventually and stopped only to collect his shoes and jacket before he left.

Peter watched the door close behind him and then, with a yell of frustration, sank his fist into the mirror.

*

Things didn't look too good for the Petrelli brothers- disowned as they were by their mother for their incestuous love, a wedge driven between them just as they had consummated their relationship. A relationship that looked as if it had been brought down before it was even out of the starting gate. Peter had not seen or heard from Nathan in almost a week, although he had tried calling him several times since that fateful afternoon. On the sixth day a knock sounded at his door and he opened it to the last person he expected to see on his doorstep- his mother.

She looked at him coldly, clearly still angry but now composed.

"Peter."

Peter moved aside to let her in. They moved into the front room and Peter closed the door.

"I have been speaking to you brother." Angela said after a pause.

"How is he?" Peter asked, too quickly.

There was an awkward pause. Peter kicked himself.

"He is fine." She said eventually. "When I spoke before, I was too hasty, too angry. I see now that there is a way to fix this. Nathan has assured me that what happened before was a one time thing, a mistake."

Peter opened his mouth to protest but Angela ploughed on.

"We have agreed that it would be best if you were separated. Permanently."

"What?!"

"It is his wish as well as my own."

Peter felt the fear clawing at him. "What have you done? Where is he?"

"He's perfectly safe."

"And by safe do you mean also alive?"

"Yes." Angela hissed. "I have done many things wrong in my life, but I would never murder my own son."

"I'm sorry." Peter apologised, regretting the accusation.

He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong however.

"And I'm sorry for this." He stretched out his hand and held his mother in place.

"Peter, what are you doing?" She demanded.

"Where is he?" He asked, reaching into her mind.

The answer was there briefly before Angela filled her mind with one thought, _Get out of my head_.

"How dare you." She narrowed her eyes as Peter stumbled backwards.

"Texas." Peter said, his expression victorious.

"No, Peter, no. Leave it be..."

Peter threw open the window and didn't even glance back as he threw himself out into the void.

"Peter!" She called after him, sinking to the ground in defeat.

***


	4. Chapter 3

Part 3: The killer and the politician.

Nathan looked up at the neat surburban house and grimaced. Of all the places he had to end up... The blonde girl, _his daughter_ he reminded himself sharply, was waiting on the drive.

"Hi." She said shyly.

Horn-rimmed glasses guy was standing by her side, eyes narrowed. Two other people were waiting, a woman and a young boy. The family, he guessed. Bar Clair, noone looked particularly pleased to see him and he couldn't blame them.

Horn-rimmed stood forward and shook his hand.

"Welcome, Mr Petrelli." He said, his smile the very essence of polite and neighbourly.

Nathan suddenly realised he was facing a very dangerous man. He smiled back.

"Call me Nathan. Thank you, Noah. Can I call you Noah?"

"Sure thing. I hope you enjoy your stay here, your mother has told me you needed some time away from it all."

_I'm here only because the boss ordered it, gotcha. _Nathan wondered how much this guy actually knew. He doubted his mother had told him anything vaguely resembling the truth. He upped the wattage of his smile and turned it on the wife.

"I can't tell you how much it means to me, you finding room for me at such short notice. I'll try and stay out of your way as much as possible."

Nathan thought that was probably true considering the stoney look that Mrs Horn-rimmed was giving him.

"Come on in." Noah gestured up the drive.

Inside was more dog-orientated than Nathan had expected it to be, but otherwise exactly as he'd imagined- white-picket fence american.

"Your room's up here, I'll show you." Claire said eagerly, obviously wanting to get him alone to talk to him.

"Claire, honey, I'll show Mr Petrelli to his room. You go and fix us some drinks." Horn-rimmed waved her off and took one of his bags. "This way, Nathan."

Mrs Horn-rimmed had already opened the door to a large-ish room. "I hope this will do, it's hardly five star but it should be comfortable."

It was definitely not five star, but Nathan appreciated the effort she had clearly gone to.

"It's nice, thank you." He replied honestly.

Her smile lost some of it's ice and she nodded, disappearing downstairs and leaving him alone with Noah. Horn-rimmed shut the door behind his wife.

"Nathan Petrelli," he said thoughtfully, "the man who can fly."

Nathan nodded in acknowledgement. "That's right."

"Your mother has ordered us to help you out and for that reason alone I am allowing you to come into my house and be around my family. However, as you are a Petrelli you should know that I deeply and thoroughly mistrust you."

Nathan smiled a humourless smile. "That goes both ways."

"Good. I'm glad we understand one another." Horn-rimmed smiled once more. "Oh and one other thing."

"Yes?"

"Claire will want to talk to you. I want you to be careful what you say to her. You may be her biological father but that is where it ends. You will not intefere when it comes to my daughter."

"I wouldn't even dream of it." Nathan answered sincerely.

"Good." Horn-rimmed watched him for a moment and then, apparently satisfied, left.

Nathan took a deep breath and fervently wished Peter was here. Luckily he had no time in which to brood as a hesitant knock sounded at his door.

"Hi."

Nathan smiled at Claire's painful overeagerness. "Hello."

She looked behind him. "Can I come in?"

"Sure."

"So, I was thinking," Claire said, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child. "Now you're here we can actually get to know one another."

Nathan smiled.

"I would like that."

Claire's smile was blinding.

"Great!" She enthused. "Dinner will be at 8, so prepare to be questionned!"

Nathan cringed internally.

"How's Peter by the way?"

Something of what he felt must have shown on his face, Claire's smile faded instantly.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry. Is he alright?"

"Yes, he's fine."

"But you..."

"We just argued before I came away."

"Oh." She winced. "Sorry. See you at 8!" Claire called as she left the room, as chirpily as she entered it.

Nathan sighed and steeled himself for the trial to come.

***


	5. Chapter 4

Part 4: Angst and angstability.

Dinner had been a minor success, Claire's father's presence had curtailed any awkward questions and they had mostly talked about his childhood and how his abilities. He was glad Claire avoided the subject of Peter rather thoroughly.

"Peter, you shouldn't have come. You should leave."

"Tell me to leave and I will."

Nathan said nothing.

"It's good to see you." Peter said softly.

"Yeah."

From her vantage point by the crack in the door Claire could see them hug. She smiled, glad they were making up.

A loud crack made her jump. She could see Nathan cradling his cheek.

"What was that for?" He hissed.

"How about not even speaking to me before you decided to cut me out of your life forever."

"Not forever, Pete. Just until we got this out of our systems."

Claire frowned, maybe they had a virus? If so, what if they were contagious? She smacked her head quietly against the wall to clear her mind.

"Maybe I don't want to get this out of my system."

"You have to." Nathan's argument sounded weak to her ears. "No, Pete, don't..."

Claire shifted her angle so she could see them once more. She stifled a gasp. The two men were kissing, arms curled round one another. Claire wrinkled her nose.

"Eeeewwwww..." She muttered to herself and walked off.

...

"Good morning everybody." Nathan was practically beaming the next morning.

Claire felt sick to her stomach as she realised the likely cause. She smiled.

"Good morning, Nathan. Where's Peter?"

Nathan froze momentarily and then relaxed again.

"Peter? He's in New York."

"Oh, I thought I heard his voice as I passed your room last night was all."

"I had him on my speakerphone."

"That must have been it." Claire's smile was like knives.

Nathan decided to make breakfast quick based on the suspicious look Horn-rimmed guy was now giving him.

He had planned to catch Claire on the way out but she was already waiting for him outside his bedroom door, arms crossed and looking stubborn.

"I need to talk to you."

Nathan grimaced.

"Alright then, come inside."

"Isn't Peter in there, waiting for you?"

Nathan threw open the door to an empty and spotless room.

"No, he isn't. I told you, I had him on my speakerphone."

"Really? I'd have thought the bed would've been more comfortable."

Nathan gaped at her, anger creasing his brow. Claire realised she had crossed a line. He shut the door firmly then grabbed her arm.

"Tell me what you saw."

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. "I saw everything." She hissed. "I saw Peter arrive, I heard you guys argue, I saw you guy kiss."

Nathan had paled.

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

She glared at him, pouting.

"No! Why would I want to tell anyone, it's disgusting!"

Nathan shook her arm.

"Claire, you can't tell anyone. Not a soul, okay?"

"Let go!"

"Do you promise?" Nathan demanded.

"Yes, okay, I promise."

Nathan let go of her arm and rubbed his forehead agitatedly.

"Is that why you left New York? Because of you... and him...?" Claire insisted.

"I don't want to talk about this." Nathan replied testily, looking away.

"Fine. " Claire snapped. "You expect me to keep your secret but you won't talk to me about it?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my Dad, he's my Uncle. As far as I can see that makes it my business."

"Everything okay in here?" HRG stood in the now open doorway, polite smile on his face.

"Everything's just fine." Claire bit out and left.

HRG glanced after her and then looked back to Nathan, eyebrow raised in polite enquiry that demanded an answer.

"Problem?" He asked.

"No, no problem."

Noah raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving, but he smiled anyway.

"Well okay then."

Nathan let out a whoosh of air as the door closed and leant back against the wall.


End file.
